


Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Reader oneshots

by AvengingSherlocksAssbutt



Series: Avengers Oneshots [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: 1940s, Back rubs, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, Jealous Bucky Barnes, Massages, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Up all night to get Bucky, bucky barnes has a bedhead, bucky being adorable, bucky get jealous, bucky is a cutie, bucky is a little bit nervous, bucky surprises reader, domestic!winter soldier, hints towards smut but no real smut, sam supports the falcons, sargent barnes, sargent bucky barnes, short bucky drabble, steve gets laid, winter soldier bedhead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-01-21 18:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1560050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengingSherlocksAssbutt/pseuds/AvengingSherlocksAssbutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Winter Soldier oneshots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pots and Pans

Usually, on a Sunday morning, you woke up because the curtains had been opened and the sunlight was pouring through the window, or Bucky was hogging the sheets. When you woke up this morning, however, the room was dark and you were cocooned in your sheets. As you blearily sat up, you could just hear someone moving around in the kitchen, swearing to themselves. 

"Shit." You heard Bucky hiss, and you heard the clatter of pots and pans. Presumably he was in the kitchen, trying to make breakfast. You smiled to yourself, before hauling yourself out of bed and grabbing one of Bucky's large jumpers to pull over your head, before stumbling out of your bedroom and into the kitchen, where you found Bucky picking up a variety of pots and pans that had fallen out of the cupboard. 

"What are you even looking for?" You asked, smiling softly and making him jump. He span around to look at you and sighed.

"Did I wake you up?" He asked, running his fingers through the very sexy bedhead he'd acquired. You had to admit, you liked having a boyfriend with long hair, if only for how good it looked tousled.   
  
"Only a little." You joked, joining him and picking up your pots and pans that were strewn along the lino. "How did you even do this?"  
  
"Looking for the frying pan." He grunted, picking up the wok and exammining it. "This it?"  
  
"Nope." You plucked it from his grasp and put it back in the cupboard. "The frying pan's on the counter. I used it last night."  
  
"Right." He stood up and grabbed the frying pan with his left hand, and you winced internally. You knew from experience that nothing good came from Bucky holding things with his metal hand. You'd had far too many broken plates, burst cartons, and warped cutlery to be comfortable with him picking things up with his left hand.   
  
"Are you going to try and make breakfast?" You asked tentatively. One thing that was blatantly clear about Bucky was his anger issue. He had a very big problem about getting frustrated when simple tasks didn't go his way, and you could tell he was already annoyed that he'd woken you up. Cooking when he was irritated probably wasn't the best idea.   
  
"Wanted it to be a surprise." He muttered, setting the frying pan gently on the counter and helping you pick up the last of the items from the cupboard. "You always cook, so I wanted to do something for you."  
  
You smiled gently, dusting your hands off. "The gesture was very sweet, Buck." You murmured, reaching up and running your fingers through his bedhead. Reluctantly, he returned the smile. You knew that he enjoyed it when you played with his hair, and you took every opportunity to do so. "But perhaps I should show you how to do breakfast?"  
  
His smile widened, and he pulled you closer, wrapping both his arms around your waist. "Perhaps. Or perhaps we could just go back to bed, now that you're awake."  
  
You laughed. "Oh, I'm sure you've got some pretty good ideas for things we could do, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
You shook your head, teasing him. "You got me up, Barnes, and now we're making breakfast. I'm hungry."  
  
He groaned, bumping his forehead against yours. "I regret getting out of bed."  
  
"So you should." You managed to wriggle your way out of the embrace and delved back into the cupboard, searching for your waffle iron. "You want waffles?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Good." You tugged the waffle iron out and set it on the counter, before looking around for the rest of the ingredients you needed, while Bucky watched you from the counter, seemingly content that he didn't actually have to do anything other than watch you. 


	2. Wanna Run?

You knew your relationship with the Winter Soldier went against protocol. Hell, it went against every rule in the book. Assets did not, under any circumstances, have relationships with each other. Assets didn't have relationships, full stop. But you and the Winter Soldier were different. 

Of course, you knew that if you were caught even seemingly friendly with each other, Hydra would split you up. Of course, you knew you only rarely got to see him, because he was kept on ice for long periods of time. Of course you knew it was risky and dangerous, and you could be fired or even killed for doing it. But God, was it worth it. 

You weren't exactly sure it was a relationship. You weren't sure you could feel that way about someone, not after everything you'd been through on your road through Hydra. Being an assassin had its perks, but it also came with a life full of hurt. You didn't really think the relationship extended much further than sex, (not that you or he minded), which was why you were so surprised when he showed up on your doorstep. 

Hydra had fallen several weeks previously, and you'd barely managed to escape with your life. As the cover had been blown, and the fight for SHIELD had begun, you'd escaped the building, ripped away anything that connected you to Hydra, and started afresh. You stayed in your safe house under an unused alias, deciding to lay low until the whole SHIELD/Hydra business had blown over. It wasn't exactly like you'd ever wanted to be part of Hydra's 'great' plan. It was just the only option left for you and your adverse skill set. 

The knock at your door startled you. You hadn't remembered ever telling anyone about your safe house - not even your superiors at Hydra, who were supposed to know about every dirty little secret you had. Had someone tracked you? 

You crept to the door, opening it just a little, surprised at what you saw. The Winter Soldier was stood there, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes and his hands shoved deep into his pockets to conceal his metal arm. He looked at you through hooded eyes, and you opened the door wider in spite of yourself, startled. 

"What are you doing here?" You asked, leaning on the now open door. Without responding, he grabbed you by the waist and pushed you back inside, kicking the door shut behind him and kissing you. 

"Good." He mumbled against your lips, struggling to pull his coat off while trying to keep a grip on you. "You're real."

"What are you talking about?" You asked, dumbly helping him with his coat as he pushed you further into your apartment. He ripped off the baseball cap and chucked it on the floor. 

"It's been an interesting couple of weeks." He grunted, looking around your apartment. "Bedroom?" 

"On your right." You said, your hands moving to his shirt as you both backed up into your room. 

 

"So why me?" You asked, tracing light patterns over the pink scar where his metal arm connected to his flesh. His muscles flexed a little under your fingers, and you finally looked up at him. He mimicked your movements with his thumb on your back, seeming very unfocused, which was unusual for him. 

"I didn't know where else to go." He said finally, his thumb stroking the small of your back gently. "I guess you were the person I was closest to at Hydra." 

"You mean I was the one you slept with." You corrected.

"Whatever. I take it you cut and ran while you could?"

"Looks like you did the same." You countered, going back to running your finger along the scar. 

"So we both have the same problem then." He grunted, rolling over so you were on your back and he was hovering above you. "Two incredibly fucked up, lonely people who are running from Hydra."

A smile formed on your lips, and on impulse, you said something you never imagined you ever would. "Wanna run together?"

"Is it going to involve..." He searched for the word the two of you often used back when you were working for Hydra. "Recreating?"

You laughed. "Lots of it. So whaddya say, Soldier? Ready to hide from Hydra with me?"

"God yes."


	3. Saints v Falcons (Featuring Sam and Steve)

"Did I lock the door?"

You opened your eyes in the darkness. Beside you, Bucky was sat bolt upright. "Yes. You double checked it as well."

"Perhaps I should check it again, one more time?" Bucky suggested. You sighed, sitting up to join him. 

"Bucky..." You murmured, kissing his shoulder gently. "You locked the door. You checked the lock twice, you made sure the windows were shut, and you turned the alarm system on. I don't think we're going to get robbed."

He still looked a little unsure. "Once more?"

You groaned as he swung his legs out of bed and padded out of the bedroom. For a couple of minutes you could hear him moving around the apartment you shared, checking that he had in fact locked the door and set the alarm system. 

It had been almost two years since the incident in DC. You had been a SHIELD Agent, and had fought alongside Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson in the fight for the intelligence agency. You'd decided to help them both in their search for the Winter Soldier, and when you'd found him, the three of you had worked on helping him to recover. One thing had led to another, and now you were living in the same apartment. 

Living with Bucky had it's perks. For one thing, the guy was hot. For another, he was strong - anything you couldn't lift, open or move, he definitely could. And although he was a little rough around the edges, you had to admit he was completely adorable. He was just the right level of protective boyfriend for it not to be creepy or possessive, and was genuinely considerate. There was also the point he made of checking that you knew he loved you. Every day he'd make sure you knew it, and most days he'd think up a new way to let you know. 

However, there were a couple of things that were a little bit more difficult to live with. He was very jumpy - it was totally understandable, of course. If you'd gone through everything he had, you'd have been jumpy too. He always had to make sure everything was locked up, and always made sure that if you were going out with some friends that you sent him a message to let you know you were okay. Then there were the nightmares. The nightmares that left him screaming for help, clawing at the sheets and tossing about uncontrollably. You weren't totally sure what the neighbours thought, but after a particularly bad nightmare that ended up with Bucky rolling onto the floor, tangled up in the sheets, you got two neighbours phoning the cops to make sure the two of you were okay. That had taken a little bit of explaining. 

 

When he returned, he flopped down on the bed next to you, curling up next to you and apologising. 

"It's okay." You said quietly, wrapping your arms around his torso and nestling your head against his chest. "I get why you do it."

He pulled the covers around the two of you just a little bit tighter and kissed your forehead before murmuring a goodnight in your ear. You fell asleep listening to his slow, rhythmic breathing. 

 

 

The next day Sam and Steve were over. It was a Sunday, so the game was on. Somehow, during the past couple of years, Sam and Steve had managed to get Bucky into NFL, and as a result, the three of them were crowded on the couch with beer in their hands, a large bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. 

"What teams are playing?" You called to them, over Sam leaping up and punching the air with an impressing 'Fuck yeah!'

"Saints v Falcons." Steve yelled back, tugging Sam's arm so he dropped back to the couch. "Guess who Sam's rooting for?"

"Saints?"

"Fuck the Saints!" Sam cried, turning on the couch to glare at you as you wandered into the living room. You laughed, dropping onto the arm of the couch beside Bucky, who was completely engrossed in the game. He did, however, look up when you sat next to him. 

"Who should I be rooting for?" You whispered. Bucky shrugged. 

"If I'm honest, I'd never even heard of either of them before we started watching. Want a seat?"

You nodded, and he curled one arm around you, dragging you down onto the couch with him, so you were curled up on his lap with your legs resting against Steve's knees. On the other side of Steve, Sam was muttering various curse words under his breath. You were pretty sure you heard 'Fucking Saints can suck my -' Before Steve cut him off with a sharp elbow to the ribs. 

"So what exactly is the point of this?" You asked, taking a sip of Bucky's beer. "None of you have actually ever explained this to me."

You didn't get a response. Someone scored, and it was Steve's turn to leap up in the air and cheer, whilst Sam yelled that it was an illegal move and couldn't be counted. You tucked your legs in a little and watched as Steve took a victory swig of his beer, laughing. Bucky's arms wound around you a little tighter. "You don't want to know. They'll just suck you into it too."

"You don't seem particularly interested in the game." You admitted, whilst the Falcons scored and Sam leapt up to join Steve, doing his own victory dance around the living room. 

"My team's not playing." He admitted. "And I'm sorry about last night. I do that a lot - it's got to piss you off."

"You just want to be safe." You said, leaning into him and squeezing his hand. "I don't mind."

Sam had danced his way into the kitchen, apparently to get another beer, and was still chanting 'Fuck the Saints!' at the top of his lungs. Steve had joined him for another beer. He was only slightly more subdued. Bucky chuckled, moving so the two of you were stretched out along the couch. 

"Sam's gonna be pissed that we've taken his seat." You chided. He laughed, putting his beer down on the carpet and settling you so he could watch the game over your shoulder.

"He spends half the game dancing around the room anyway. Who cares?"


	4. Panic

"You know you don't have to call me up every five minutes, right?"

You gnawed on your lower lip. "Did you get the oven to work? And the TV? Oh God, Bucky, you locked up, didn't you?"

"Gee whiz." You heard Bucky give an over-dramatic sigh on the other end of the line. "All these God darn contraptions are so confusing. Hey, that toaster thing you were showing me earlier on ate my bread. I'm just gonna go get it out with a fork..."

"Bucky don't you dare!" You shrieked, sitting bolt upright in bed. On the other end of the line you heard him laughing, and slapped your forehead, groaning. "You bastard. You know I'm freaking out about leaving you there on your own. Don't make me panic any more than I already am."

"Agent, as much as I appreciate the help you've given me over the past couple of weeks, I think I'm going to be alright. I mean, there's this red button under the counter in the kitchen, I don't know what that does, and-"

"Bucky that's a panic button!" You whined. "Don't press that or my whole apartment will go off!"

"Really? Why?"

"Because I'm assigned to you! I'm supposed to protect you, so I've got alarms set up all around my apartment to let me know if you push your panic button and need help! Do not push that unless it's an emergency, you understand?"

He chuckled. "Got it."

"Good. Okay, is there anything else, or are you good for the evening?"

"I'm good. I'm assuming you're coming over in the morning?"

"We're going grocery shopping. And then I'm helping you with laundry."

"Looking forward to it." He said, with a hint of sarcasm. You shut off your phone, threw it down on the bedside table, and rolled over to get some sleep. Being assigned to introduce Bucky Barnes to the new world after his Winter Soldier/Hydra incident was a job that you loved and loathed. Of course, spending the day with a tall dark and handsome assassin was interesting. (He even cracked a joke from time to time.) However, the whole dark and brooding I-hate-everyone mood had been depressing. Luckily, you’d managed to snap him out of it. He was actually becoming more and more like a regular person with each day. You were also in charge of teaching him the more mundane tasks, such as operating a computer, ordering things online, and inflation. (You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d said the words ‘No Bucky, they aren’t ripping you off. Three dollars for a coffee at Starbucks is perfectly reasonable.’)  
Throwing your phone down on the bedside table, you rolled over, closed your eyes, and tried to get some sleep. Bucky had a point. Grocery shopping wasn’t exactly the most riveting of tasks. 

 

You woke up with a start to the sound of your panic button alarm going off. Your whole apartment was ringing, just making sure that you knew your mark was in trouble. Without a moment's hesitation, you rolled out of bed, threw on some clothes, and snatched up your phone, making sure to turn off the alarm as you left. 

It didn't take you long to get to Bucky's house. As a general rule, you were never supposed to be a mile away from your mark, just to make sure you could get there to intervene if trouble arose. You were at Bucky's place in under five minutes, with your gun at the ready. 

Only... When you were stood outside the door, it didn't exactly seem like there was much of a problem. Cautiously, you unlocked the door with the spare key you owned, stepping inside and kicking the door shut behind you, your gun still aloft. "Bucky?"

"Ah, you came." Bucky wandered out to greet you, stopping and frowning when he saw the gun in your hands. "What's with the gun?"

You groaned. "You pushed the panic button, jack-ass. I thought you were in trouble. I thought there was an emergency."

He shrugged. "There is."

"There is?"

"Yeah," he looked behind him. "I can't remember how to work the TV."

"Bucky!" You cried, tucking your gun back into your pants. "It's the middle of the night! I was sleeping!"

"I know, I tried calling you and you didn't pick up."

You checked your phone. Sure enough there were three texts and seven missed calls from him. Sighing, you put it back in your pocket, moving past him into the living room to talk him through the TV again. When you'd finished, and he seemed satisfied, you dropped onto the couch, rubbing you face. 

"Sorry." He said sheepishly, joining you. "I thought if I could wake you up you'd check your phone and see my messages."

"Ugh." You groaned, as he lowered the volume of the TV and began to channel surf. "Can I crash here for tonight?"

"Sure. It's the least I can do, after getting you out of bed."

"No," You kicked off your shoes and swung around so you were laying with your head in his lap. "The least you can do is become a human pillow, soldier."

He chuckled, "whatever."

You lay there, only half interested in the TV, mostly watching Bucky from your vantage point of his lap. After a while, his human hand slipped to your hair, and his fingers tangled in it. His expression didn't change as he made this move, and you decided to let it slide. You were too tired to call him up on it. 

What was more interesting, however, was the next morning. When you woke up you weren't laying with your head in Bucky's lap. Nor were you laying alone. You and Bucky were curled up on the couch together, with your back pressed against his chest, and his nose pressed into your hair. 

Taking care of the Super Assassin just became very interesting.


	5. Stress Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has had a very stressful day, so Bucky decides to make her feel a little better.

"James!" You yelled over the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. "I'm home!"

You didn't get a response, and instead drifted through your apartment, noting that the dishes, which had been sitting in the sink when you'd left, were now neatly stacked away, and the washing machine was on. You smiled gently, throwing down your bag on the counter and dropping your keys into the bowl where you kept the spare set with a clatter before leaning against the counter and stretched your aching muscles with a sigh. It had been a long day.

First of all your car had refused to start, so you'd had to try and find a cab in the total chaos that was rush hour New York City; then when you'd arrived at work (with only a few minutes to spare), you'd found out that your co-worker Denise had called in sick, leaving you to do all the filing for your douchebag boss on your own.

You barely registered the shower shutting off as you kicked off your uncomfortable work shoes with a happy sigh, moving over to the other side of the kitchen to rummage around for something to eat. You'd opened the fridge door, and were about to stick your hand inside to grab at the particularly nice looking pasta bake leftovers you'd put aside, when the door closed. You pulled your head away, your eyes shifting to the metal hand that lay flat against the cool whiteness of the fridge door.

"You're late."

"Had to get a cab." You said apologetically, turning around and leaning back against the fridge door to examine your (very wet) boyfriend. His long, dark hair framed his face, strands of it clinging to his jaw and chin. You brushed it away with one hand, watching a few droplets of water fall from his hair and roll down the sides of his face. He frowned, looking you up and down.

"You look tired."

"That would be because I _am_ tired."

He dropped a kiss on your forehead, and for the first time, you could appreciate how quickly he must have come out of the bathroom. He was naked except for the white towel that hung loosely around his hips, only held up by his right hand. You tilted your head up to kiss him on the lips, smiling as a few drops of water rolled across your lips. You pulled away from him, leaning back on the fridge again, laughing when he wiped the water off his face with the metal hand, before examining you again. After a couple of minutes of silence he gave you another quick kiss and said he was going to get dressed, leaving you to grab something to eat in the kitchen.

As you pulled off your blazer, you felt one arm wrap around your waist, and laughed as James buried his nose in your neck. "Come here."

"Where's 'here'?" You asked, arching your neck as he rubbed his face into your hair. He didn't respond, instead taking to dragging you backwards out of the kitchen. "James?"

He led you into the bathroom, where you could hear the bath running. You frowned, confused. "You just had a shower."

He kissed your neck. "Not for me. Come on." He turned you around to face him, smiling softly. You laughed as he reached for the fiddly buttons of your blouse, undoing them with surprising skill and efficiency before sliding it off your shoulders and moving to your skirt. The zipper went down, and the skirt fell around your ankles, and then he was pulling your underwear off and unclasping your bra, until you were stood naked in front of him. He reached around you to stop the bath running, and turned you gently. "In."

You shook your head, smiling in spite of your crappy day, before dipping one foot into the warm water, stepping in and sitting in the bubbles. Bucky looked down at you with a grin on his face, dressed only in a t-shirt and boxers. "You going to join me in here?"

Instead of getting into the bath with you he sat on the edge, sitting so that his legs were in the water and your head was resting against his stomach. When he was satisfied that you'd settled back enough, he began gently digging his thumbs into your back, hitting the all the spots he knew that you usually got knots and drawing a few contented moans from you.

"Want to tell me why you look so tired?" He asked, his voice soft. You began to explain the reasons your day had been quite so crappy, and he listened patiently, continuing to work his hands along your back until you were completely relaxed against him. You smiled happily as he eventually dragged you out of the cooling water, towelling you down adequately before scooping you up and carrying you into your shared room.

By the time he'd laid you down on the sheets, you'd fallen asleep.


	6. Ties and Doorhandles

A knock at your door startled you, and you dropped your book down on the coffee table to go to your door. Bucky was stood outside in the hallway, dripping wet. You grinned at him, leaning on the doorframe. "Problem, Barnes?"

"Don't look so god damn smug." He snapped, pushing his way into your apartment. "Can you believe that punk had a tie on the doorhandle? Can you believe it?"  
  
You shook your head. In honesty, you actually were quite surprised that Steve had managed to have a successful date that was about to end in sex, but you were more amused by how personally victimised Bucky seemed to be by it. Generally, it was Steve that was showing up at your door sheepishly, murmuring that Bucky had a girl over and would it be alright to sleep on the couch?  
  
"You want me to set up the couch for you?" You asked with a smile. Bucky glared at you, clenching his jaw and seeming to pointedly drip on your floor.   
  
"Got a towel?"

You laughed and left to go get him one from the bathroom. It had become a regular system with you, Steve and Bucky. They'd decided that whenever one of them had a girl over, they would stick a tie over the doorhandle to let the other one know, and they'd go to spend the night at yours. Normally it was Steve showing up - this was the first time Bucky had appeared on your doorstep. 

A couple of minutes later you were setting up Bucky's bedding on your couch while he towelled himself off in your bathroom. You had just finished draping a blanket over the couch when you felt a pair of hands grip your hips. You straightened up instantly, trying not to make your bodies brush against each other. It didn't work particularly well.   
  
"Buck." You murmured, feeling his strong grip on your hips tighten. "I've set up your bed."  
  
"I'm thinking I'd prefer to sleep in yours, doll." He whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.   
  
"Yeah, well you can't." You murmured, swallowing hard as his thumbs traced circles over your hip bones. "Because I'm sleeping in it."  
  
"Sure you won't get cold without me?" His warm breath tickled your ear, and you realised as you brushed your arms back against his that he'd stripped out of his wet clothing. You stepped away from him easily, turning to face him. Sure enough, he was stood in just a plain pair of boxers.   
  
"I'm plenty sure, Bucky." You said with a grin. "Steve's never this much trouble, by the way."  
  
"Steve's normally not the one with a girl." Bucky grumbled, and you couldn't help but laugh and ruffle his hair as you walked past to your room to get ready for bed.   
  
To give Bucky some credit where credit was due, he did wait a considerable amount of time before moving to your door. He probably thought he was being sneaky, to try and check whether or not you were sleeping, but you were waiting for it. As soon as you heard the shuffling noise in your living room, you smiled to yourself.   
  
"Well don't just stand there." You called. "Come in."  
  
The door creaked open and then closed, and you heard Bucky pad across the room to you. Then the bed sank a little under his weight, and then his lips were on yours, and his hands were at your waist, and you were reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and sit up to meet him. Then he was pushing you back onto your bed, and his left hand was fumbling in the darkness for your bedside table. He didn't find it.   
  
"Other side of the bed." You whispered, gently nipping his lower lip and moaning as his free hand slid up your side. He grinned against your lips and reached around, finally finding what he was looking for and propping himself up on one elbow.   
  
"How many you got left?" He asked, opening the box.   
  
"Four or five." You ran your fingers through his hair. "Why? How many you gonna need, Buck?"  
  
You could tell he was grinning as he reached inside the box. "Guess you're gonna have to find out, doll."


	7. Sargent Barnes

You were glad now that you were at the bar that you'd agreed to come out with your friends. It was Valentines, and you hadn't really wanted to do anything except curl up and read Bucky's latest letter to you. He'd been at war for almost six months now, and every day without him was just a little bit more painful than the last. But all of your friends had grouped together and convinced you to come out with them. Now that you were all sat at a booth in the back, and the jazz music was washing over you, you were glad you'd agreed to come. Besides, Bucky wouldn't have wanted to you to sit at home and mope without him. 

You had, however, agreed to stay sober to keep your friends in check, so you simply ordered a Shirley Temple while your friends ordered Martinis and Manhattans, and sat back to wait for your order. 

"I think that guy at the bar is looking at you." One of your friends leaned in close and whispered, jut above the sound of the music. You glanced over to the bar. There were two couples who were sat drinking and laughing together, one lone woman who was stirring her Martini and trying to get the attention of the man beside her, and large blond man sat on his own drinking, occasionally looking at the "Sporting Girl", who clearly wasn't interested in him. 

"Which one?" You asked glumly. "The one who struck out with a prostitute?"

She giggled. "No, the other one."

You shrugged, uninterested, watching out of the corner of your eye as the man brushed the "Sporting Girl" (as you'd heard they liked to be called) away from him. She stood up, her rejection obviously not affecting the confident sway of her hips as she moved over to the large blond man, who looked up excitedly at her presence. 

The darker haired man she'd been talking to before gave a long stretch, and leaned over the bar to talk to the bartender, who glanced over to our table quickly before nodding. You raised an eyebrow, but returned to the conversation your friends were having. 

"Did you hear Jillian is marrying Martin Hawkes next week?" One of your friends whispered excitedly, drumming her perfectly manicured dark red fingernails against the table. "I heard she got in trouble and he's marrying her because his parents made him."

There was a chorus of tuts and unappreciative murmurs around the table. It was a well known fact that if you wanted to go the whole way with a man, it was perfectly fine, but if you got pregnant, you'd be lucky to ever be invited to another party in your lifetime. A couple of your friends had broken out of your social group for similar reasons, and still weren't on particularly good terms with most of you. All of your friends believed that a girl should have enough sense not to get herself pregnant. 

The waiter came over with your drinks, handing out the Manhattans and Martinis across the table. You couldn't see your Shirley Temple, but instead, he handed you a Sidecar. "And a Sidecar for you."

"I didn't order this." You said with an apologetic smile. The waiter nodded and jerked his thumb over to the bar as he left. 

"Guy at the bar ordered it for you, sweetheart."

You raised an eyebrow and glanced at your friends, who all exchanged grins. 

"He must like you, mustn't he?" One of them giggled. 

With a sigh, you stood up with the drink and walked over to the bar. "Excuse me, sir? I can't drink this."

"Why not?" He grunted, without turning around. 

You looked down at the drink regretfully. In truth, the Sidecar was your favourite drink. But how could this guy know? "I'm the sober one for tonight. And besides, it would give you the wrong idea."

You heard a low chuckle. "Wrong idea?"

"Yes."

"You got a boyfriend already then?"

You examined his back, frowning. "Yes. He's fighting in France."

"Brave guy."

"Very. Listen, I can't -"

"Oh come on baby," the guy swung round on his chair, grinning. "You love Sidecars. Have one on me."

"Bucky?" You shrieked, almost dropping the drink in shock. He laughed and prised it out of you grip before you launched yourself on him, throwing your arms around his neck to hug him. His arms went around your back to pull you in tighter, and he buried his face into your hair with a chuckle. 

"You miss me, doll?"

You nodded, gripping onto him tighter. "How'd you get the leave anyway?"

"Called in a couple of favours from some friends. You get me for the long weekend." You pulled back to examine him. His hair was a little longer at the front, and their was scruff on his face, and underneath his coat you could see his military uniform, but other than that, he looked like the same Bucky who'd left for war all those months ago. He grinned again and lowered one hand to rest on your ass. "Why don't we get out of here, so you can get me out of my uniform?"

You gave him a mini salute. "Whatever you say, Sargent." 

He chuckled and dropped an all too short kiss on your lips, his left arm winding tightly around your waist. "Come on."

As you left, he waved goodbye to your friends, all of whom had proud, smug smiles on their faces. You didn't care. You had Bucky back for the long weekend, and there were oh so many things you wanted to do with him.


	8. Fireworks

You smile up at Bucky. Dressed in suit pants and a button down white shirt, with the top two buttons undone, he takes your hand to help you out of the Taxi. You grin up at him. “You look good.”  
  
"You look beautiful." He murmurs sincerely, glancing back at the Taxi Driver, who is waiting expectantly. Bucky pays him the money for your fare, and you open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off.  
  
"No, I'm the one who asked you to come here because I didn’t want to have to do one of Stark’s parties alone. I should pay.”  
  
You aren't totally sure that's true, but you know that protesting will just annoy him, so you go along with it, and take his hand as he guides you to the doors of the Stark tower. You still can't believe you're here, celebrating Thanksgiving with your boyfriend and the Avengers. He’d invited you to Tony’s thanksgiving party because no matter how many of them he went to, he still didn’t like being alone at them. Steve had reliably informed you after the first party you’d been to with them that he hadn’t seen Bucky so relaxed since the forties.

 

As you step into the elevator and the doors close behind you, Bucky leans down to kiss you, but you stop him by putting two fingers to his lips. He pulls back, looking at you reproachfully.   
  
"If you get lipstick on your lips then don't blame me." You warn him with a laugh, and his face relaxes. He dips his head down and kisses you delicately, and then more hungrily, pulling you closer. Around you, you feel the elevator stop, and Bucky pulls away, slipping one arm around your waist as the doors open.  
  
The two of you step out, and Bucky smiles in greeting to Tony Stark, who is dressed, unusually, in a suit and tie. He wanders over and greets you.  
  
"Bucky, you've been holding out on us." He says appreciatively, taking in your body and face. He kisses your hand, and beside you, you feel the muscles of Bucky's right arm tighten around your waist, making you smile.  
  
Tony looks up at Bucky, and a coy smile glows on his face. "I really didn't know that was your shade of lipstick. I'd have taken you for a burgundy man, but I guess you just wanted to match your girlfriend." Tony shrugs, faking nonchalance and wandering back over to Pepper, who has one hand covering her laugh. Bucky glances down at you uncertainly, and you can see that Tony was just screwing around with him; no lipstick.  
  
You grin and whisper this in his ear, and he relaxes, laughing with you, just as the other Avengers wander into the room. Clint and Natasha are stood together, and Bruce is standing a little apart from them. He looks kind of lonely, and like he knows he doesn't fit in. Your heart goes out to him, and when you catch his eye you shoot him a warm smile, which he shakily returns. From the other side of the room Steve and Sam shoot you grins, and wave at you.   
  
"Well now, what am I forgetting... Avengers, drink, Pepper, Bucky's girlfriend..." Tony frowned, winding an arm around Pepper's waist. "Ah! Fireworks!"  
  
You look at Bucky, who shrugs back, and the two of you follow the other Avengers onto the balcony, where Tony begins a long speech about how technologically advanced his special Fireworks are. Bucky wraps his arms around your waist from behind you, and the two of you shuffle along to the right of the balcony, away from everyone else. Bucky puts his head on your shoulder and pulls you in closer, so you can feel his heartbeat on your back.  
  
"You look beautiful tonight." He whispers.  
  
You blush at the compliment and lean back against him looking up at the night sky expectantly. "I think the fireworks are about to start, Bucky."  
  
He buries his head in your neck, nuzzling it and mumbling gently, "I don't care."  
  
You laugh, and the first Firework explodes overhead, in brilliant flashes of red and gold. You smile as the next one takes on the shape of the Iron Man mask, and Bucky chuckles from behind you.  
  
"Trust Tony." he mumbles, before going back to nuzzling you.  
  
More fireworks explode overhead, and after a few of them you realize what they are.  
  
"Bucky," You whisper, and he continues to nuzzle you. The next firework explodes overhead in brilliant green, and you elbow him gently.  
  
"Mmm, what?"  
  
"Bucky, look up." You say as the next one explodes in red white and blue splendour. Bucky laughs openly, hugging you more tightly. Another eight fireworks explode in quick succession, spelling out the letters 'Avengers' in bright multicolored sparkles.  
  
"Wow." You breathe, watching your breath cloud in front of your face.  
  
"Incredible." Bucky mutters, burying his nose back into your neck again, making you laugh.  
  
"Something tells me you aren't actually that interested in the display, Soldier," you tease, settling back against them. There is a pause, and he finally plants a kiss on your right temple, whispering words that send shivers up and down your spine.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Another firework blasts overhead, but you never get to see what color it is. The only thing you're interested in is Bucky.


End file.
